The Green Slipper: A Cinderella Story
by Owlkin
Summary: Karigan G'ladheon answered her call with little fanfare or trouble, for Mornhavon had already been permanently vanquished, as had his servants. The King's brother failed in his attempt at a coup and was killed in the skirmish between his supporters and the King's Weapons, before she was ever chosen. The King now faces the pressure of choosing a bride from the ladies of the kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

This is a total piece of crack/fluff that I think about once in awhile. Written on napkins and pieces of paper to finally be compiled. It is fully written but awaits interest. Kudos to those who can pick out the random Cinderella movie (all versions) lines. Thanks Aereal for the title!

* * *

 **Setting:** Between Green Rider and First Rider's Call

 **Synopsis** : Karigan G'ladheon answered her call with little fanfare or trouble, for Mornhavon had already been permanently vanquished, as had his servants. The King's brother failed in his attempt at a coup and was killed in the skirmish between his supporters and the King's Weapons, before she was ever chosen.

King Zachary now faces the pressure of producing an heir and choosing his bride from the daughters of his noble lords. Completely disinterested in the simpering ladies of court, he announces that all eligible young women shall be invited to a masquerade ball, at which he will choose his bride from among the ladies present.

Three months after Kargian's training officially completed, she now returns home on an extended leave.

* * *

The reigning monarch of Sacoridia, King Zachary Hillander, eyed the pile of invitations with distaste and apprehension. His Rider Captain Laren Mapstone snorted at her King's helpless expression and drawled, "It was your suggestion, and we are only talking maybe four, five hundred at the most. And given you chose a coastal city as a destination, this will limit the number of guests willing to travel."

Zachary turned his amber eyes on her and widened his gaze comically, "I was just trying to put the others off, besides, is it such a foreign notion that I would like to have affection for my bride rather than pick a woman at random?"

Laren pretended to think for a moment then nodded emphatically, "Yes, for you it is. This woman will not only be your wife but a Queen, a figurehead. Do you think that any common girl off the street would have what it takes to be in a position of responsibility?"

He arched a brow, "You think very meanly of yourself Laren, if you think you are just a common girl off the street."

Laren rolled her eyes and threw up her hands, "You know very well what I mean. What are your chances that you'll find a woman with all the requirements of the station, coupled with your own personal wishes?"

"My chances are utterly slim," he responded cheerfully, nodding at his secretary to take the basket of invitations off to be distributed amongst Laren's Riders. "But it is a risk I am willing to take."

* * *

 _Two Weeks Later_

The saddlebags were dropped lazily near the door frame and her dusty boots were tiredly tugged off to be abandoned at the foot of her bed. Her room was as she left it, complete with the collection of birds nests on the cluttered desk, and the smooth river stones that were piled prettily around the fireplace.

Karigan G'ladheon threw herself back onto her small childhood bed and sighed deeply, absently listening to the breeze rustle the starched white curtains of her windows.

Clean sheets and a hot meal. That was all she had thought of for many a long day on the road. The way stations that were scattered along the route to Corsa were utilitarian at best and only offered cold rations. Although she had never fancied herself to be particularly concerned with her appearance, she also conceded to herself that a bath would be extremely welcome.

She threw a hand over her face as the sun began to sit lower in the sky, grimly acknowledging that if she lay there any longer, she would not be getting up for a while.

With a heave, she hauled herself back up to a sitting position, wincing at the protesting muscles in her lower back. _Ugh_.

Karigan told herself on her good days that she made progress with Drent, the Master at Arms, but when she limped away like a lame horse, she was reminded heavily that she was not longer playing with swords but training to be an effective Rider.

Many days spent in the saddle did nothing to alleviate said aches and pains, and thus she reluctantly found herself reaching for the bell pulley to ask the maid to fill a tub downstairs. Raised in a wealthy household she may have been, but it was no use to her if she became used to being waited on, she groused to herself.

The maid came and went, promising a ready bath within a half hour, leaving Karigan to unpack and strip off her green jacket. It was lucky for her that the spring had chosen to linger a few weeks longer, for if her ride had included the scorching hot temperatures of the summer, she might well have been sporting a terrible sunburn on her fair skinned face as well.

As it were, she knew there were leaves and such lodged in her long brown tresses. Karigan slowly unraveled the thick braid and scrutinized the waves, sighing again when she realized she would have the arduous task of washing her hair. A part of her wished mightily to chop it off at her shoulders and be done with it, but her father's face when he saw her long hair dissuaded her of that notion long ago. A soft wistful quality would come into his eyes as he playfully tugged on her braid, commenting on how much she favored her mother when she wore her hair in such a way.

And for that, she kept her dratted hair long.

Karigan swiped a change of clean clothes from her wardrobe and her brush, and strolled out of her room barefoot down to the large kitchen where her aunts frequently communed. In such a large house, and with a staff that was well used to the ways of the family, the center island of the kitchen sported a variety of stools that currently sat all of Stevic G'ladheon's elder sisters.

Stace G'ladheon leapt up and bustled over to her niece, drawing her into a warm hug, "Karigan, my dear, we are ever so happy that you managed to come home for a visit, and it was a near thing for we were watching the road for days, hoping you would come in a bit sooner."

Karigan shifted her eyes between her other aunts, and the grinning kitchen staff, before settling back on Stace, "I came as soon as I was able, and made good time I think-"

"Yes, yes," Stace said excitedly, "But most importantly, you made it in time for the ball."

Karigan frowned and canted her head, "What ball?"

"The King's masquerade ball, dearest, every household received an invitation for their young ladies to attend," Stace said drawing Karigan back upstairs by the elbow, while gesturing over her shoulder to the staff.

Karigan felt herself hauled back up the stairs to her room where the maids had dragged several trunks into the open space. Feeling a certain amount of dread, she narrowed her eyes at her aunt, "You cannot mean for a King's Rider to go, I'm not one of the ladies of court!"

Stace plopped Karigan down on the bed and hurriedly stripped her protesting niece of her waistcoat and overshirt. Sitting awkwardly with her arms crossed, just in her camisole and trousers, she felt decidedly at a disadvantage until Stace threw a robe for her to cover up.

She glared at her aunt as the older woman waved a hand at her airily, "I recall that it distinctly said all young ladies, not just the noble ones."

Karigan sputtered, "You know that my father would never allow me to go to such an event. He would see it as gallivanting off with the nobles."

Stace shrugged, "So we don't tell him."

Her niece groaned and shook her head, deeply desiring to fall into bed and not wake for several days, "This was not the sort of trip I had planned, Aunt."

Stace lifted open the lid of one of the trunks, drawing forth gossamer gowns of silk and satin with a knowing smirk, "Are you sure that you do not want to experience one night in the court of the King?"

Karigan looked wistfully at the beautiful dresses that belonged to her mother, "I have never even really seen the King and my dancing is atrocious. Besides, I am more likely to spend the evening hiding behind a plant."

Her aunt smiled softly and directed two incoming footman who carried a copper tub to set it before the fireplace, "A lady of fashion does as she wishes, my dear. It is entirely your prerogative to refuse your suitors a dance."

Karigan snorted, "My suitors? Unlikely."

"You are infinitely more beautiful than you think, in more ways than one, and a real gentleman will see you for the lady that you are," Stace insisted.

Karigan offered a tiny smile in gratitude but looked in dismal at the entire household which had seemed to congregate in her bedroom as they had spoken. "I was fully prepared to bathe downstairs, this isn't needed," she protested.

One of the older maids, Erina, shook her head, "No miss, for this, you deserve a proper cleaning and someone to look after your hair."

Karigan lifted a hand weakly to touch her snarled hair, "I haven't said I am going," she said faintly.

Stace opened a small mahogany box in front of her and showed her the contents, giggling in delight at the awe in Karigan's features. "Not even to wear this? Come dear, we have a few hours before you must be on your way."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the smattering of reviews. My writing style is casual and may not always be true to character, but as I threw most of the book content away, this is for fun. Don't take it seriously.

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 **Chapter 2**

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Brini, Tory, and Gretta swept back inside the room with their arms full of underclothes. Karigan groaned audibly from where she sat in the bathtub. Erina and Stace were each holding one of Karigan's hands, diligently scrubbing at her nails. Her hair had be washed and rinsed multiple times before her aunts deemed it clean enough, and it now hung in a wet loose coil over a shoulder, smelling of rosewater.

Throughout this process, she had been slowly given several cups of kav and a few biscuits, but nothing else as it was pointed out that she had not been laced into her corset yet. A vile thing constructed of heavy silk and whalebone.

Karigan's eyes flit to the pile of colorful clothing on the bed, "How long have you had those?"

Brini sifted through the pile while angling her head to peer into the trunks, "We had these made up when we got the invitation. Undergarments are just important as what goes over the top," she chastised gently. She picked up an almost iridescent silk chemise that had narrow offset shoulders with a hem line that ended at her knees. "This will go on first."

"I'll catch my death in that," Karigan said primly, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"First layer," Tory called out cheerfully, "Then your corset, petticoats, and stockings."

Karigan eyed the ensemble critically, "You've already picked a dress?"

"Well there were only a few that truly matched those," Stace commented with a nod towards the open mahogany box that she had revealed to her niece. Inside were a pair of exquisite dancing slippers made of stiff embroidered sea green satin and fine Rhovan leather. Karigan had marveled at the slippers design, "Wherever did you get these?"

"These were your mother's of course, along with her gowns and jewels," Tory said kindly, "And she wore these for a similar occasion such as tonight."

It had proven easier to manhandle Karigan after that and they succeeded at getting her into the bathtub with little mishap.

Karigan now stood and eagerly reached for the thick linen cloth offered to her as she shivered in the cool afternoon hour. Erina came around with another cloth and began to rub her hair dry, clucking as Karigan tried in vain to get away. Gretta had already laid out a gown upon the bed and drew Karigan closer, with the maid still attached to her hair.

It was as if it were made of air and sea, for it's silvery color showed shades of blue and green as the light shifted. Yet it was a simple design with little embroidery nor jewels inset in the bodice. The skirts were full and filmy, the sort that Karigan secretly would love to twirl in, and ended with an ever so slight train in the back.

For someone who did not enjoy gowns as much as the next girl, it suited her perfectly. Her aunts gathered and began to assist her in dressing. The silk chemise was in fact, wonderfully soft and cool against her skin, but the corset was a contraption fit for torture, she decided. It only fit under her bust and went to the top of her hips, but her lungs felt the restriction every time she drew a breath.

The stockings were also of a light silk, a translucent ivory was only a few shades lighter than her skin. With a sigh, Karigan sat gingerly upon her vanity chair and allowed Erina to assist her in rolling them up each leg, securing each with a ribbon garter.

Two layers of satin petticoats followed, and then finally, the gown. Nervously, Karigan shifted as Erina held her long hair clear as she was laced in the back. Her shoulders were bare and so were most of her arms. She looked down when prompted and slid her feet into the surprisingly comfortable slippers. Feeling her foot slide ever so slightly, she looked up at her aunts, "They feel a bit loose, what if they fall off?"

Gretta snorted, "Then take care to not run amok and loose them."

Stace ran an eye over her critically before turning and picking up a pair of elbow length white gloves. "These ought to do when you are ready."

Karigan chuckled, "Am I not ready now?"

Erina, who was still holding the mass of hair, exclaimed in dismay, "Oh miss, really."

Karigan heaved a dramatic breath and plopped back down on the vanity chair. "Do your worst then, but no curls."

The maid shrugged and went to work. Her hair was worked into a loose chignon that featured intertwining little braids wrapping around the crown of her head and then were tucked into the woven hair at the base of her neck. Little wavy tendrils were left to trail on her bare shoulders, and tiny seed pearls were carefully secured throughout her hair. Although the entire process took less that twenty minutes with several hands working at once, she fought the inclination to keep batting at the hair that was tickling her skin. Stace had caught her hand and tsked, "One pull and it might all come down."

Karigan had scowled and glared at her aunts in the mirror, but did not resist as they slipped a delicate silver chain bracelet on her wrist and a simple pearl drop pendant around her neck.

She had heartily refused all the cosmetics put before her but finally relented to a bit of pink rouge on her lips. "My face will be covered anyways," she grumbled.

It was nearing the early hours of the evening when she was finally deemed ready, gloves on, and allowed to proceed downstairs once it was ascertained that Stevic would in fact be in the harbor for a good portion of the night.

Karigan accepted a dark velvet hooded cloak from Erina and moved to step outside before Stace's squawking stopped her in her tracks. "You do not mean to go on foot?!"

Her niece frowned, "The L'Petrie Manor is but a mile away through the woods, Father is using the carriage and I cannot arrive on the back of Condor."

Gretta went upstairs and returned with a pair of half boots, "Then at least wear these until you arrive, and change on the grounds."

Her sisters looked scandalized, "Gretta!"

The woman only raised an eyebrow, "Better than arriving with ruined slippers, and besides, you know where you are going, yes?"

Karigan grinned and accepted a hand from Stace as she took the slippers off and slid her feet into the boots, "You do not forget your way in the woods."

Gretta smiled back grimly, "And I have never forgotten your excursions with those young lads from the manor house."

Karigan wrinkled her nose with a chuckle, drawing her hood up and peeking outside before briskly walking towards the treeline.

Brini hissed out the door, "Walk slower, you are a lady, not a merchant going to market!"

Karigan adjusted her gait with a roll of her eyes.

Stace called out, "Mind your skirts and your manners!"

Karigan grit her teeth and lifted a hand in acknowledgement as she found the path and disappeared into the thickets, skirts firmly in hand.

* * *

Zachary wearily held out his arms as his tailor fitted him with a new waistcoat of midnight blue. The corresponding coat was a dark navy, shot with silver and completed with an overall simple look.

He absolutely loathed it.

The room that he stood in was likely Lord L'Petrie's own, and for that he was also acutely embarrassed, for while the lord boasted a large estate that stood on the outskirts of the city of Corsa, it was filled to bursting with guests. The Weapons he chose for this trip either had to sleep in the antechamber attached to his, or in the general servants quarters.

Laren was attending at his behest, and was clad in an almost severely styled high neck black gown with a full black face mask. She sat in an armchair primly and watched as his valet assisted him with his coat, handing off his domino mask with a slight bow.

Zachary took one look at Laren and quipped, "What is your theme, big sister? Evil Witch? Black Death?"

Laren's eyes narrowed, "Is there a reason that you no longer have your short beard? Or are sporting a new haircut?"

Zachary straightened his cuffs and shrugged, "Anonymity?"

She sniffed and sat back, "You look a decade younger, like you came out of the schoolhouse. Baby face."

He offered her a dazzling grin, "All the better for you to see my features."

She stood and motioned for him to spin, "You will do, but you are counting on the fact that you won't be recognized."

Zachary fastened the mask over his eyes and the bridge of his nose, "And I won't. No one will be dancing attendance upon me, or think to look into the crowd."

Laren sighed and brushed off a piece of imaginary lint from his shoulders, "Are you sure this is the way you wish to do this?"

He nodded once briskly, "It is."

She looked at Willis, who opened the chamber door, then smiled encouragingly at her King, "After you then sire."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the couple of reviews I got. Mostly people who have read my stuff before ;) Do not take it seriously. Would Karigan so readily sit and chat with a strange man? Maybe not, but a Cinderella would. A needed plot device.**

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Karigan was familiar with the well worn path between the G'ladheon estate and the L'Petrie estate, knew its twists and turns even in the dark, and so she padded through the forest in cloak and ankle boots, slippers firmly in hand.

The lanterns of the outbuildings and stables came into view, prompting her to carefully pick her way around to one of the greenhouses. The hothouses that sheltered the citrus and exotic fruits were void of staff as she quickly tugged her cloak off and changed her footwear. From here, there was a little paved path that eventually led to the formal gardens and hedge mazes. It would be easy enough to slip in with the rest of the guests and then into the manor house.

It was more than a little thrilling to be able to easily sneak into something has grand as the King's ball, but a part of her was more than a little hesitant at the cultured tones that drifted from the open balcony doors. With a gulp, she checked her oyster lace mask, touched her brooch for reassurance, and gathered her skirts to drift towards the ball.

In the woods surrounding the gardens, more than one pair of eyes watched her curiously.

* * *

The announcement was made that the King would move amongst the guests tonight completely incognito. It caused a ripple of excitement to flow about the room as mothers hurriedly pinched their daughter's cheeks for color and fathers puffed up in prideful apprehension.

Zachary wrinkled his nose from his chosen spot behind a potted plant. Being a wallflower decidedly had its merits, he had concluded as he unabashedly indulged in the pastime of people watching. There were all sorts of lovely women present, but many had a sort of pasted on smile that he recognized all too well from court. The male guests flocked around their escorts but they too, cast an eye about them in curiosity. The very tradition of these balls dictated that a guest was under no obligation to utter their names, but most of the courtiers, even attired in costumes and titled with ridiculous aliases were easily recognizable.

Laren had chosen to sit amongst the chaperones, a fact that he would mercilessly tease her for later, and made a point of not glancing in his direction as she sipped her cup of punch. Willis and Fastion had both donned simple costumes and casually strolled throughout the rooms allocated to the guests. Zachary himself was careful not to catch himself alone in the supper rooms nor any deserted corridor. There was safety in numbers and thus, he kept himself positioned in the ballroom where he could still observe and keep to himself.

A flash of iridescent green caught his eye in the candlelight, prompting him to turn his head and stare in slack jawed wonder at the vision at the entrance of the balcony.

Her long golden brown hair had been woven about the crown of her head and threaded with tiny pearls. The delicate silver lace mask she wore did not hide the bright cerulean blue eyes nor the dark rose of her lips.

Almost as if she were uncertain, she bowed her head a fraction and stepped forward, her long flowing skirts rustling quietly as she felt the attention of the room turn towards her. Looking as if she sought to be away from the crowd, she angled her body and strolled around the periphery of the room, disappearing out another open door frame.

Zachary abruptly closed his mouth and carefully moved around the guests, straining his eyes as more people placed themselves in his line of vision.

He finally made his way to the veranda and looked about carefully, his eyes alighting on her slight form as she looked up at the strung up lanterns in awe and wonder.

Clearing his throat slightly, he stepped closer within speaking distance and offered a small smile, "Good evening."

Karigan had almost jumped when she heard the male voice behind her, turning to see a conservatively attired man in blue. His mask covered most of his face but she could still see a pair of almond shaped amber eyes twinkling down at her. Almost unbidden, she instantly thought of her aunts and what they would say about a strange man speaking to her. This one seemed to hold himself differently from the usual sort of arrogant nobleman, standing with a quiet sort of dignity and solemnness. He seemed to be younger than thirty, but his eyes held the look of experience and wisdom.

Karigan stared at him for a moment before blinking rapidly and automatically replying, "Good evening, my lord," attempting a shallow curtsey with a bow of her head. Zachary returned it with a smooth bow at the waist and a pleased smile. "It was very forward of me to approach you without a proper introduction, but perhaps you'll forgive me and understand that I wanted to meet you before another claimed your attention."

She gave a shy smile, "I am not as well versed in the social niceties, my lord, so you have caused no offense."

Zachary tilted his head with a mischievous air, "Shall I introduce myself? Or should you prefer to have us remain nameless for now?"

"I would prefer the latter, my lord," she answered uncomfortably.

He felt her tension and came to a decision rapidly, offering her a hand,"You are unescorted, my lady. Would you permit me a turn about the ballroom?"

Karigan felt her cheeks tinge pink at the request and she found herself accepting with a shy smile, but her nerves quickly reestablished themselves as they walked back into the brightly lit ballroom.

She looked about the glittering room anxiously, but his grip on her gloved hand remained firm. "I can't dance," she confessed in a low whisper.

Zachary paused a moment, his eyes coming to regard her thoughtfully from behind his mask, then glancing at the numerous bodies that had stopped to stare in curiosity. He smiled and whispered back, "This one is not so hard, besides, I've got you."

With a slight tug of her hand, he led her onto the ballroom floor with the other dancers.

Karigan remembered playing in this very room as a girl. Making faces at herself in the gilded mirrors with the L'Petrie boys and twirling under the chandelier until she was dizzy. All the chandeliers were now lit, dripping with cut crystal drops that reflecting and bounced the light of the soft candlelight.

That same weightless feeling was present yet again as he brought her hand to his shoulder and placed his hand about her waist. She squirmed a fraction and looked uneasy, "Where does my other hand go?"

Zachary held up his free hand, "Right here," he said softly, reaching out to grasp hers. She blushed at the proximity the position afforded them, his arm that reached around her body and his warm hand that was pressed against the small of her back. "Is this dance entirely . . . proper?" she whispered at him.

He leaned down to whisper back, "Proper enough to be used at court. We will get the basic step down before we move any faster," he reassured her, taking a measured step back and pulling her back in sync with him. It only took a few turns before she felt comfortable making a complete circle, then he seemed to step off in a wider arc with the rest of the couples.

Karigan gulped, gripping his shoulder and hand tighter. He gave her hand an answering squeeze, and asked, "This is not so bad, is it?"

"As long as I do not trip over my feet," she muttered back. Zachary chuckled and spun her a tad faster, eliciting a slight squeal from her.

It was over in only a few minutes but as soon as the orchestra stopped, she gave a tiny gasp as she sought to catch her breath. They obligingly clapped for the musicians, then he led her off the floor for some much needed air. The cloying perfumes of the ladies and the general heat of too many bodies in one room was almost overwhelming.

There was a long banquet table set along the outer wall on the veranda and was laden with all sorts of delicacies. None of which looked particularly appealing, she thought, accepting a cup of punch from her escort with a smile of thanks. "Did you wish for any other refreshments?" he offered, looking at the stuffed peacock with a grimace.

Karigan looked at the same preening bird and sighed, "No, it is too bad that the fare was not a little bit more simple," she remarked without thinking.

He nodded seriously, "I normally remember to eat before a ball, naturally I forgot, and I am paying for it now," he remarked wryly.

She grinned despite herself, "I would have if I had been allowed to-," she paused and looked him over for a moment, "I wonder, my lord, if you would be opposed to helping me locate the kitchen."

Zachary lit up, "I certainly would not."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later after much cajoling and begging, one of the pastry cooks conceded that she would not mind having one of her kitchen maids assemble a tray with two mugs of tea and a plate of honey oatcakes.

Zachary insisted on taking the tray and looked at Karigan in query, "Where do we go now?"

"Gardens," she decided, "Still visible but enough privacy to eat."

They went out through the servant door to the outbuildings, easily finding their way back into Lady L'Petrie's formal rose gardens, and locating a suitable bench where they could still hear the laughter of the guests and the strings of the orchestra. A few couples would stroll by and eye them with curiosity, but shrug and continue with their conversations.

Despite her initial fear, she could it admit this was rather fun. She gave a sidelong glance to her escort, who had seemed to relax in the short hour that they had been acquainted. The air outside had become even cooler, and had a sort of refreshing briskness in the breeze that came from the sea. Karigan breathed deeply and moved to lean against the stone bench. Zachary angled himself to do the same and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. "Do you feel more at ease than when you first arrived?"

Karigan fought the urge to let out an unladylike snort, "I do not think I will ever be completely comfortable in these sorts of situations. The few events that I have attended with my father can attest to that. But food always helps, and you don't seem like a bad sort to spend time with." she said happily, taking a bite of her cake.

He chuckled and nodded carefully around his mug of tea, "I've never really at my best for these sorts of things either, too often I have to cultivate a certain image."

She offered a wry smile, "Not so at a masquerade ball."

Zachary laughed outright, "No, not at a masquerade ball, but it does get tedious."

Karigan rolled her eyes, "Oh to live in the lap of luxury must get rather old."

He pretended to look affronted, "More so than you know, miss."

Karigan wiped the crumbs from her hands and picked up a glove to tug on, "If they are really so bad, then why go?"

"For this sort of thing, I do not have a choice," he said with a shrug.

She gave him a sympathetic look and played with the button fastener at her wrist, "What would you rather be doing? If you did not have to go to the ball tonight?"

His amber eyes looked straight at her through his mask, "I don't know, I am having a rather good time right now."

Karigan flushed and waved a hand, "Then if you do not have to go to these things in general?"

Zachary clasped his hands in front of him and leaned back, pursing his lips as he studied the floor. She quipped, "First thing that comes to your mind."

"Sleep," he answered quickly.

"Doesn't count," Karigan said in exasperation, "Besides are you telling me a nobleman is not allowed to sleep late into the morning? I find that hard to believe."

Zach snorted, "Oh believe it my lady, I have some early mornings where I have to be dragged out of bed."

She arched a brow, "Must be all those late nights you work."

He nodded and gave a toothy grin, "Must be."

Karigan grinned back, "So try again, what would you rather be doing?"

Zach gave a helpless wave of his hands, "I don't know. Read? Ride? Go to the kennels? I am not used to free time on my hands."

She straightened eagerly, "You have kennels? What kind of dogs?"

"Terriers of course," he teased, "Quite the popular breed in my family."

She looked at him with a considering expression, "Popular with the Hillanders."

He inwardly cringed and nodded warily, "True enough, I am a distant cousin of the clan."

Sensing she mis-stepped somehow she hastened, "I have never met or seen the King, but I hear he is fond of his dogs as well. I was surprised to hear it."

Zach shrugged, "He is just a man like any other, I imagine that they are an outlet for him."

"With such a depressing line of work, that is not surprising," she muttered under her breath.

His gaze snapped to hers and he smiled slightly, "You think so?

Karigan stood and finished her other glove, "Lots of pressure, a lot of criticism, and not a lot of friends," she remarked, walking towards another open path. Discreetly she placed a hand to the front of her bodice and winced at the pressure of a full stomach in a tight corset.

He straightened and followed her as they ambled into the vast gardens that showcased the wildflowers and early blooming perennials, interspersed with brass lanterns. Zachary offered her arm as he conceded, "My impression at court was no, it was not his first choice of occupation, but there is no where else he'd rather be."

Karigan took offered the arm tentatively, but felt rather surprised with how comfortable it felt falling into step with him. She chose her words carefully, "I can understand that feeling well enough."

He looked down at her, "Oh?"

She shrugged one bare shoulder, "I am in a similar position but I would not change it for the world."

Zachary's body posture betrayed his slight surprise, "A young woman like you? I had thought you lived nearby with your family."

Karigan shook her head, "Just here for a visit before I return to the capital."

He stiffened, "Are you promised or attached to another family?"

"I'm afraid not," she said wryly, "Can you keep a secret?"

Zachary squinted slightly, "Maybe, depends on the secret."

She gave a small laugh, "It hardly matters as we likely won't meet again, my lord. I go back to the King's service soon."

He stopped walking completely and turned to face her, "The King's service?"

She nodded uneasily at his unusually erect posture, "I was called to service less than a year ago."

Zachary grimaced at his luck and continued to hold onto her hands, "That in itself sounds to be a lonely place, my lady," he offered gently.

Karigan smiled, "I have my friends with me, and it is not an unexciting life."

Zachary pressed hesitantly, "And how long would you wish to be there?"

She frowned with more than a little bit of confusion, "However long it takes until I am released. It leaves little time for anything else."

There was a long silence in which he looked away into a bubbling fountain, gently caressing the palm of her gloved hand. In truth, the sensation was mildly pleasant and unsettling at the same time. She knew she ought to withdraw her hand as propriety dictated, she _did_ listen to her aunts on some days, but a tiny voice inside her head offered that it was unlikely that such a man would ever pay attention to her again. For all her father's distaste, and her own natural distrust of the noble class, she felt no reservations or discomfort with him.

He finally spoke again, "And what if you could have more than just your oath to service?"

Karigan tilted her head in confusion, "What else could I possibly want?"

That provoked a genuine hearty laugh from him and he offered her a seat on a bench, seating himself close enough to where their knees almost touched, "Not the usual sort of answer, but a good one. What I mean, my lady, is what if you could balance your duties if given the opportunity?"

She was flabbergasted and looked down at their joined hands, feeling an uncharacteristic fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, "I had not really thought of it to be honest."

Zachary gave a ready smile, "It is worth a thought, something else might come along."

Karigan scoffed, "Unless it is some sort of trouble, good things rarely happen to me."

His eyes softened a moment and with a moment's hesitation, he raised one of her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes widened at the gesture but she made no move to stop him. He squeezed her hand and settled their clasped hands between them again, "I hope that changes for you soon, in fact—"

DING!

Karigan's head snapped up at the jarring noise. "What is that?"

Zachary, who had lifted a hand to her cheek, paused with a frown, "A new court contraption on showcase in the ballroom, it tells the hours of the day, I gather it is now close to midnight-"

She jumped and exclaimed, "Midnight?!"

He reached up to pull her back, "It is, but why is that of concern—"

Karigan felt a rising wave of panic, she only had minutes to get home, "Goodbye!"

Zachary jumped up and grasped her elbows, "Wait, you can't go now, not when—"

DING!

She started to bodily pull herself down the path towards the ballroom, "I must, please I must," she struggled.

"But why?" he asked in genuine bewilderment.

"The King!" she blurted, "I haven't met the King," she finished lamely, her eyes already looking past him with desperation.

Zachary was taken back and more than a little sheepish as he softly said, "The King? But did you really not know-"

DING!

She broke his hold on her then picked up her voluminous skirts to run. Startled, Zachary ran after her, "Come back, please come back, I do not even know your name, how will I be able to find you?"

Karigan suppressed the urge to look behind her, she could hear the pounding footfalls behind her advance rapidly. "Wait!" he shouted. Skirting around the corner, she ducked around a group of tittering ladies, and stepped back into the ballroom.

DING!

The throng of people ebbed and flowed, easily allowing her to slip behind the crowd, close to the wall as she sought the same servant's corridor that led down to the kitchen. Startled footman with platters hugged the corridor walls as she came barreling down the stairs.

DING!

The kitchen was still filled to bursting with scullery maids, the cooks, and their assistants as many a face looked up to gape at the lady who breathlessly dodged around the work tables to slip out the door, hardly making a noise as she ran for the forest. A few tears escaped, knowing that it was likely the last time she would ever dance in the arms of a gentleman or wear a beautiful dress, but it was tempered with the knowledge that she had Condor, and the honorable distinction of her Rider status.

Karigan scrambled for her brooch in her hidden pocket, narrowly avoiding a fall as the path curved hard and her right ankle twisted in its delicate slipper. The shoe slipped from her foot, but the voices behind her was more than enough inducement to keep running, mourning the loss of her mother's heirloom.

* * *

Everyone stared at the door she had exited when another ball guest almost ran into a table as he skidded to a stop. He tore off his mask to reveal an auburn haired nobleman who panted, "The footmen said she came this way."

A boy wordlessly pointed out the door to the stable courtyard. The nobleman sighed heavily and picked up his pace as he went out the door.

There was no sign of her, no flash of light colored fabric as he looked around wildly in despair. A few dark clad figures emerged from behind the stables and greenhouses, wordless converging around their King.

Fastion appeared from the general direction of the mazes and locked eyes with his liege, then the other Weapons who looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. One spoke quietly, "She disappeared into the trees. Literally."

Zachary shook his head sadly, walking forward until he reached the lush ferns and tall coastal trees, the moonlight reaching parts of the forest floor. Fastion stood apart from him, but still maintained a close enough distance to see the crestfallen expression on his King's face.

Zachary felt the pit of his stomach drop, "Could she be tracked?"

"Unlikely," Fastion murmured, "No footprints leading out, no indication of a name, but we can assign individuals to look into the matter."

The King had fixed a vacant stare forward, but his eyes had caught something of a sparkle as the moonlight shone onto a patch of silver embroidery and green satin. Carefully, he brushed aside the fronds obscuring his view to reveal a delicate slipper. He turned it over in his hands, murmuring quietly, "Where did you run, my lady?"

* * *

 **Was there twelve dings? No. Did I want to write them all in? No.**


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the reviews! I am going to try harder at responding to each, I really do appreciate the kudos. Spot the numerous lines from different Cinderella movies!

* * *

Karigan nearly barreled through the heavy door with the force of her running. Gasping and leaning over the large table for support, she dropped her stockings and lone shoe onto the floor. With her luck and trying to flee while clad in only one lone slipper, lwhich ikely would have resulted in a twisted ankle. Thus she ducked around an especially large blackberry thicket to roll the stockings off and clutch her mother's shoe to her chest.

She had made her back slowly, pausing every so often to check behind her before proceeding further along the path. Most of the lights were extinguished in the house, with only a few lanterns lit in the back courtyard, but the kitchen door thankfully was still unlocked. She sank onto a stool and ruefully picked at the remains of her elaborate coiffure. Her long locks had begun to unravel themselves from their braids and the result was a loose mass in which the pearls hung haphazardly.

Her mother's gown had surprisingly fared well, with only a bit of dirt about the hem, and no rips or tears from her flight. Karigan reached down to pick up her slipper and stare at the lovely embroidery sadly. Losing her own belongings would have hurt a lot less than losing her mother's, but it could not be helped. Feeling wetness upon her cheeks, she lifted a hand up to find a few tears had leaked from her eyes.

For a few short hours, she felt as if she were a character in a fairy tale. To wear a gown, don a mask, and dance with a nobleman at a ball. Something many little girls dreamed of and most would never experience. She sighed and wiped at her damp face, it had been a wonderful night, but when she woke up in the morning, reality would be back to remind her that she was due back in the capital.

Karigan continued to stare at the shoe and muse in her own thoughts, not registering the sound of soft footfalls until someone cleared their throat. Startled, she looked up into the tender eyes of her father.

They stared at one another until he finally ventured, "I thought I was looking at your mother."

She swallowed and gave him a sad smile, but braced herself for the inevitable interrogation over her attire.

Stevic came around the table to take her in fully, and reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind an ear. He spoke slowly, "I had inkling of what happened when I came home and found you gone. My sisters were always horrible liars," he commented with a grimace, "-and it was apparent that you had gone to the L'Petrie manor. I was fully prepared to dress you down for not even asking to attend the ball."

Karigan winced and looked down at her hands in her lap. Stevic's eyes softened and he covered her hands with his own, "But all thoughts left my mind when I saw you sitting there. You look lovely," he said gruffly, "Kariny would have wanted you to wear and enjoy her things."

She wrinkled her nose, "But?"

He chuckled, "But sneaking out of the house, even with the help of your aunts, is a little bit too much for me to let go unpunished."

Karigan's face fell, so he quickly interjected, "If you wanted to wear a dress and exchange pleasantries that badly, I will just have to have you come to a few guild events. To meet a few sons of my peers. Petyr Denealton has a nice young lad, Hagyr, he still has spots, but I am sure he'll grow out of those," he said reassuringly.

Her features contorted into comical horror as she stiffened, prompting a full belly laugh from Stevic as he reached out to draw her into a hug. "I'm not truly upset, girl, just saddened that you felt it needed to be hidden from me."

Karigan's muffled voice came from his shoulder, "Thought you wouldn't approve of mingling with the noble class."

Stevic shrugged one shoulder, "Just because I do not have the tact or manners to openly tolerate the sops, does not mean you do not. You seem to do all right in the castle, yes?"

She nodded and rested her head against his chest, "I guess, the ones I see anyways."

"There you are then. You had a nice night out, no harm came of it. Did anyone bother you?" he asked, pulling back to look at her closely.

Karigan shook her head, "No, but I did speak to someone."

Stevic raised his eyebrows, "A him?"

She smiled sadly, "Yes, a man. He seemed nice, even showed me how to dance.

He smiled at her encouragingly, "A real gentleman then, I am glad you were attended by a worthy man, lass."

Karigan shrugged and moved from his embrace, showing him her shoe, "Not likely to see him again, not after I literally ran from him and left him in the gardens."

Stevic bit back a grin and took the shoe, turning it over in his hands, "In a hurry to get back?"

"Aunt Stace said you would be gone til well after midnight," Karigan protested weakly, "I thought as long as I made it back in time, I was clear of trouble."

He snickered, "And you thought you had to sprint from the ball all the way home? Mightily impressed you did that in a gown."

Karigan's shoulders sagged, "I did not want to earn your ire after I had only been home a day."

Her expression was of abject misery and tugged at his heartstrings in more ways than one, "So you ran from your young man, lost your footwear, and showed up like this?" he gestured at her unkempt hair. She bit her lip and nodded, reaching up to self consciously pat at the wild hair.

"You still look upset, Kari. You made it home in one piece, what troubles you?"

Karigan whispered, "I did not want to leave, he really was . . . I felt so happy . . ." she trailed off.

He wrapped an arm about her shoulders and walked her to the main stairwell, "I suppose I have been lucky these past few years, in that you had not shown much interest in men, but that was bound to end."

Karigan said nothing, keeping her head down as she gathered her skirts to climb the stairs. Before she was able to proceed up, he turned her to face him and lifted her chin up, "There now love, maybe your young man will find you," he offered.

Horrified with herself, she felt the gathering of tears again, "We did not exchange names, and I could not see most of his face. Besides, what good what it do if he did find me? What man would want to pursue a girl in the Rider Corps?"

"The right man would take you as you are, otherwise he is not a man I would entrust my only daughter," he said firmly.

"I am happy as a Rider, I do not want to give that up," she said falteringly, "Acknowledging that I want other things as well makes it too complicated."

Stevic sighed and shook his head, "You are making it complicated. Cross that bridge when you come to it, but do not deny yourself the things you want or could have."

She wrapped her arms about her waist, "It was only a few hours, Da, not a courtship."

"Sometimes all it takes is a first look," he said, tapping her on her nose, "Your mother and I knew each other for all of five minutes before I was smitten. Did your young man appear to be enjoying himself?"

"Yes . . ." she murmured reluctantly.

"Did he pay attention to anyone else?" he pressed.

Karigan begrudgingly gave her father a hint of a smile, "No, not at all."

"Then go to sleep tonight with the knowledge that you were admired," he said comfortingly, "And keep that in your mind for when you are ready for the next step in your life."

She took one step up the stairs and looked back at him suspiciously, "No Hagyr Denealton?"

Stevic snorted, "No Hagyr, now go to bed."

Karigan stepped down and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before trotting up the stairs to her room. Stevic shook his head ruefully and looked down at the shoe still in one hand. Reverently, he ran a finger over the silver thread, his mind awash in memory.

* * *

Zachary sat back in a plush armchair, enjoying the relative solitude of his guest quarters as he stared into the flames of the fire. His blue jacket was open and his cravat lay discarded, leaving his neck bare as he reclined back. The green slipper sat upon his knee as he ruminated over the events of the night, his thoughts in relative disarray.

A daughter of a local family . . . In service and serving in the capital . . . Corsa was a large port of commerce and boasted many rich merchant clans as well as the local landed gentry. It might be worth staying a few days to make inquiries, but the best course of action in his mind would be to return to Sacor City and dispatch Fastion to assist in locating her.

In service called to mind too many occupations to count, but the circumstances mattered little to him. Through conversation, he knew of her bright eyed intelligence and good humor. She was without artifice or false airs, lending a refreshing sort of air about her as she had easily bantered with him.

Zachary grimaced as he thought of the reception that might await him from his lords. His council knew the stipulations of the ball, knew that he was well within his right to choose any bride as he had extracted promises of cooperation from them. They had been so sure of themselves, sure that he would have chosen one of their carefully groomed and polished daughters, that they had all readily agreed and signed documentation to that effect.

Their young ladies of breeding had done little to garner his interest. In the days when he had not been the heir but the spare, those same women had disdainfully ignored him and lamented over his serious nature. There were a few that might have been content to be wife of the Lord-Governor of Hillander, but those ladies had a calculating gleam in their eye that never failed to send the naturally shy Zachary into seclusion.

The young woman at the ball, while beautiful, had something else entirely that captured his attention. And it was something he wanted to pursue in depth.

A light knock sounded at the door of his dressing room, prompting him to call, "Enter!"

Fastion slipped in and gave a short bow of his head, "After a short discussion with those on the perimeter, we ascertained that she had arrived after the start of the ball, from the same direction that she departed from."

Zachary's brow furrowed, "On foot?"

The Weapon nodded, "So it seems, but upon arrival she had made a stop at the orangery and left some of her belongings there, a cloak and a pair of boots, before she proceeded to the ball itself."

"Did they notice anything of note?"

Fastion paused and nodded, "By moonlight, they were able to make out some of her features without her mask."

Irrationally, Zachary felt a spark of jealously, "And?"

"It was commented that she is a very comely young woman and her description was noted in the event that you wish to initiate a search, sire," Fastion finished tentatively.

Zachary slumped slightly, "Let your description also note that she has blue-green eyes, very fair skin, and was brown of hair."

A lone brow rose on Fastion's face as he took in the general melancholy of his King, "Is it your wish for us to locate her?"

"She ran away, Fastion, that hardly speaks of a desire to continue the acquaintance," Zachary said wryly.

Fastion shrugged one shoulder, "You had mentioned she had first become distressed when she became aware of the time, given the way she arrived, is it not entirely possibly that she could not stay long?"

"It is possible," Zachary grumbled, "But she left with no explanation. Not even her name."

The Weapon strode to the King's chair and gestured towards the slipper, "You do have that, sire."

Zachary picked it up and examined it, "Remarkably dainty little thing. What are you suggesting?"

Fastion pursed his lips and clasped his hands behind his back, "Gather your facts sire. A female in your service, called to service, speaks of something oddly specific. And given the ratio of females to males, it narrows your pool of candidates down significantly."

Zachary stared at him with a deadpan expression, "You will have to spell it out for me, I am not operating at my full capacity."

Fastion's mouth twitched, "I gathered, sire. There is one group of individuals, a corps to be exact, that receives a call to service."

A light came into Zachary's eyes, "The Green Riders. . ."

"Very good, sire," Fastion quipped, "And so, you have each female Rider try on that remarkably dainty slipper."

"Dear Gods, you are right," Zachary sat back in astonishment, "And to think, I was going to search through all the maidens of the kingdom."

Fastion scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Sire, really. Every single one? The time and the expense that would take," he said with a shake of his head. "This is why you have me around."

The King gave a sheepish smile, "Things seemed a little hopeless a little while ago."

The Weapon hesitated a moment before reaching down to awkwardly pat his King's shoulder, "That is why love is such a messy business, sire, it is already starting to scramble your wits."

* * *

I did not want to make Stevic the "evil stepmother" but took the opportunity to squash the usual classic Karigan insecurities. Reassurances can sound better when they come from your dad.

I felt weird about giving Karigan tiny feet, but its a plot device.


	5. Chapter 5

**I did not update yesterday because I worked late and went to bed as soon as I got home. :( Thanks to those who reviewed, you are the only reason I stopped at my lunch break to update today. Working a long weekend, I will try to get chapter 6 up when I can.**

* * *

The tall spires of the city on the plains came into view gradually as Condor ambled up the well trod road. Sitting in the saddle for a fair few days on the road gives a person quite a bit of time to think. Which was not necessarily a good thing, Karigan thought grimly.

The gates of Sacor City looked mostly the same with their wide stone arches and contingent of city garrison troops casually strolling about the perimeter, but her feelings upon returning were tinged with a slight bitterness that she still was musing over _him_.

People moving about their business respectfully stepped to the side as she took her time going through the streets. The beginning of summer saw the arrival of the first wave of produce from the countryside, and the merchant caravans from the coast.

Her eyes was drawn to a flash of bright color, a narrow swatch of midnight blue silk that fluttered in the light breeze from the stall of a fabric peddler. Images of a tentative smile and a smooth baritone echoed in her mind. Karigan grit her teeth and forced her gaze away, urging Condor into a trot as she passed the outer castle gate and turned him towards the Rider barracks.

 _Enough of that nonsense._

* * *

Zachary had an inkling that there were several not-so-discreet glares aimed at the back of his head as his entourage returned to the castle with dusty faces and tired mounts. Willis had a miserable expression as he slowly dismounted and stiffly walked into the stables with his mare. Both Fastion and Zachary watched him with amusement as the other retainers slowly filtered out of the royal private courtyard.

Zachary waved off a footman who move to take his saddlebags and unstrapped them himself, then led his gelding into the stables to give the poor creature a thorough rubdown. Fastion followed and moved his mount into the stall next to his King's, neither man saying a word as they unbuckled harness straps and removed saddles. The Weapon waited until the stableboys had brought fresh hay and left, before venturing, "You know she may not be back yet."

The King inclined his head and briskly rubbed away the horse's lathered neck with a handful of clean hay, "It is possible, but in the meantime, it does not hurt to put the word out amongst your brothers and sisters."

Fastion wrinkled his nose, "You know how that is going to sound. You fancy a Green Rider who went incognito at a ball."

Zachary shrugged and stepped out of the stall, allowing a stable hand to pass by in order to fill the water trough. "Let us discuss this somewhere else."

The Weapon followed his King out of the stables, but his liege steered them in another direction, down a corridor past the Light Horse barracks. A heavy green door appeared in front of him and Fastion balked, "You cannot mean to go in there now?"

Zachary arched an eyebrow and stared at him. The other man sighed deeply and opened the door, holding out an arm for Zachary to proceed him.

The King called over his shoulder, "I actually wanted to pay a visit to Laren."

"She will definitely not like this," Fastion muttered at a few paces behind him.

"She will get over it," Zachary said mildly, "As long as I give her time to get used to it."

His Weapon replied archly,"You think your council will react in the same way?"

Zachary raised a hand and rapped briskly on Laren's office door, "It was partially their idea, so they will have to. Besides I had the choice of several fourteen year old Ladies and a few who are old enough to be my mother."

Fastion frowned, "Was not the Lady Estora a possible choice?"

Zachary grinned, "Was, ironically she eloped with a Rider. Laren was naturally furious, but conceded after the Lord Governor of Coutre arranged to have the man operate a circuit in his province."

"Ah," was all Fastion replied with, knowing that likely the King had played a part in the couple's machinations.

Laren answered the door and blinked owlishly, "You are back rather soon."

"So are you," Zachary observed, taking in her haggard appearance, "I did not see you on the road."

She waved a hand tiredly, "I left the morning after, things to do and such."

He chuckled, "Can I come in?"

The captain stepped aside and ushered them both into her small office, "Coming as you are from your journey, I take it you did not come to exchange pleasantries."

Zachary sat in a chair opposite of her desk as she took her usual seat, offering her a rakish grin, "No indeed, I came to tell you that the ball was a success."

"Oh, found someone tolerable? she asked with a yawn, wiping at her face tiredly.

He nodded slowly and interlaced his hands, "Oh yes, more than that. I think I found her."

Laren stood and tended the small brazier behind her, picking up a steaming kettle and swishing a measure of the hot water in her small teapot. She called over her shoulder as she worked, "Found who, moonling?"

Fastion scrunched up his face at the nickname but the King took a deep breath, speaking softly "Laren, I think I found my Queen."

A spoon clattered to the floor as she swore and picked up the utensil, turning to regard him with her canister of tea in one hand and the pot in the other, "What now?"

He met her astonished gaze head on, trying to convey his sincerity, "I know it was only for a night, and I know many will have objections, but I do know that she was no ordinary girl. I felt _comfortable_ , Laren, incredibly happy to just speak to someone who was not there to ensnare a rich or titled husband."

Laren sputtered, "Comfortable? You picked out a _comfortable_ girl?"

She sat down heavily and leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a gimlet gaze, "This will not be made easy for you. Even as our monarch, there are some things that even _you_ cannot do.

Zachary groaned and stood up, taking a turn about the small room. Fastion looked at him sympathetically from his post at the door, but only shrugged when the King looked at him for encouragement.

She took a deep breath, "I haven't had my tea yet, just give me a moment, and you can tell me more," she said evenly. She set up the teapot and her mug, and silently waited a few minutes while Zachary nervously sat back down. Her tea poured and back straightened, she looked up and gestured with a hand, "Start from the beginning."

Zachary slowly started his tale, pausing at moments when his mind recalled his lady's smile or the mischievous slant of her eyes. Laren saw how is features had brightened and a part of her unthawed as she listened to him speak so earnestly of the girl that caught his attention. He finished his story with the lady disappearing into the forest with little trace but a slipper, and an almost heartbroken King in her wake.

Laren coughed and let out a breath, "Very dramatic. And what do you plan to do now? Have a herald go to each town and make a public announcement?"

Zachary winced and looked over his shoulder to Fastion, who cleared his throat to gain the Captain's attention, "We have reason to believe she is here."

Laren narrowed her eyes, "Here as in Sacor City?"

"The castle." Fastion supplied primly, "The lady referred to her service to the King, and her need to return in the coming days."

The Captain blinked slowly, then stood, bracing her hands on her desk. "That could be anybody from a chambermaid to a courtier."

"Fastion in fact believes another theory," Zachary said quietly, "She may be in your Corps."

Laren sat back down abruptly with a thump, "No," she said flatly, "I only have a few Riders of a likely age with your Lady, and only one who hails from-," her eyes widened and she quietly gulped. "Can you describe her?"

Zachary quickly answered, "Around your height. Long brown hair, blue-green eyes . . ."

Laren groaned loudly and her head dropped forward to rest on her forearms. "Why? Why do these things happen to me?"

Zachary angled his head and reached across the desk to poke at her arm, "You know of whom I speak?"

"I believe I know who she is," Laren said finally, bringing her head up. "I am just surprised that she would have gone to something like a ball. Some of the nobleborn lads in the Corps have tried to get her attention and she looks at them like she would a bug to be squashed."

Zachary gripped the edge of his chair and looked ready to leap up, "What is her name? Is she here?"

Laren shook her head, "I can't tell you now-," she held up a hand to halt him from protesting angrily, "-not until you make sure that this is possible. I may not approve of her circumstances, but that does not mean I want to see her hurt unnecessarily if this does not turn out well. She already looked miserable enough when she rode in, she likely thought it was a lark in which she would never see again the charmer she met at the ball."

The King closed his mouth and looked down guiltily, "I already planned to talk to the nobles, but I wanted to speak to you first. Eager, I suppose, to find her identity."

Laren frowned, "Have you thought about how she will react? She has a temper and I doubt she will take it too kindly that her escort was in fact the King in disguise."

Zachary shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "We were all masked, that was the idea Laren, to give a degree of privacy and allow an easier dialogue with any woman I spoke to."

"Be that as it may, I know this girl, and it will not be as easy as showing up to sweep her off her feet," Laren responded critically.

Fastion gave a small snort but straightened his features when Zachary turned to glare at him. Naturally it was going to be a long arduous process, but having it stated so blandly was a bit disquieting. Laren called his attention back to her, "Do you want my advice before you botch things up?"

Zachary looked rather disgruntled, "Why do I let you speak to me like this?"

"Because I am right," she said crisply, "Now what you need to do . . . ."

* * *

I ended it here because it was a good spot before I go back to Karigan's POV. I tried writing the version where Zachary DOES try to sweep her off her feet and it fell flat, miserably.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks all for the smattering of reviews and suggestions.

* * *

Personally, he still did not think this was a good idea.

Laren, however, had been adamant. "Tea and cake, a relationship it does not make," she had said in a singsong voice, snatching the letter he had painstakingly written. He had also been barred from the Rider barracks and would be purposefully steered away from the training ring by Fastion and Willis if he took on the inclination to sneak a peek.

Initially, his countenance had betrayed a slight tic in his mouth, indicating his rebelliousness, that prompted Laren to immediately point her finger at him, "Don't you dare. Do you want to upset or embarrass her?"

Zachary had fidgeted, "I promised I would not seek her out, but what if perchance I happened upon her-"

Laren interrupted him, "Your idea of an upset lady is vastly different from what would await you if she was taken unawares by your identity. Now be content that I am allowing her to receive letters from you."

He bristled slightly, "Allow?"

Laren stood up to her full height, which was still a head shorter than him, and eyed him with censure. "Yes indeed, allow. I believe there is an attraction, but the possibility of a future? Determine for sure, moonling, that this is the woman you want, and that she is willing as well. Love at first sight is all and well for the bards, but with a nation in the balance, I would want you both to exercise a little prudence."

He relaxed slightly as he absorbed the weight of her words. Although he had no doubt of his own heart, it was true that he had not completely considered the impact that a courtship might have on this girl's life. It troubled him to think that she could reject him, in light of Laren's assertions that she maintained a sort of derision regarding the nobility. Then other thoughts entered his mind of his own worthiness, of whether inflicting such a life would be fair to her. Zachary's mind whirled in a quick procession of nervous joy, apprehension, fear; his emotions playing so openly on his features that Laren and nudged him with a frown, "Do not think too hard on the matter, it is what it is, and if this is meant to happen, it will."

Zachary sighed deeply, nodded at her and cast one more apprehensive glance at the thick envelope in her hands before returning back to the upper reaches of the castle with Fastion in tow.

* * *

Karigan found herself, once again, elbows deep in payroll accounts upon her arrival back to the barracks. She had scarcely been back a day when Captain Mapstone had cheerfully handed her three weeks worth of rosters that had yet to hit the payroll and be submitted to the royal treasury.

And so, in a broom closet of a windowless office, she had taken on the dubious joy of balancing the books for several days. Tedious at times, but it offered a sort of mind numbing and soothing effect upon her jumbled thoughts.

It was on the third day that Captain Mapstone had visited to check her progress, with Karigan nearly fumbling with the quill and inkwell before straightening and offering a short bow to her Captain. Mapstone had acknowledged her with a small smile and studied her with an intensity that made the other Rider stand a bit taller. It was by no means confrontational, but rather as if she were trying to take Karigan's measure in a single glance.

For her part, Karigan was internally cringing. She knew that she was only improving marginally at some of the weaponcraft, other than the sword, and she had not yet had ample opportunity to prove herself yet on any of the longer message circuits throughout the kingdom. The scrutiny of her Captain caused her cheeks to redden as she fought to look back at her with an even glance that betrayed none of her discomfort. The older woman seemed to be faintly amused as she gave Karigan a considering glance.

Captain Mapstone had always said she respected honesty and strength, two traits that were paramount to the service that a Rider fulfilled. It was with these thoughts in mind, that Karigan stilled her twitching fingers and calmly stated without a tremor in her voice, "Nearly finished, Captain. I was just verifying the accuracy of my calculations before I submitted."

Laren smiled gently, "Those books have not had such care in many a year. I have no doubt of their accuracy, Rider. I came actually, on a different errand."

Karigan brow creased in confusion as the Captain drew an envelope from her coat and hesitantly handed it to her with a degree of reluctance.

She accepted it tentatively but could see no name or mark that could possibly distinguish the sender. Without looking up, she queried, "A letter from my father?"

Laren coughed, "No, indeed. It seems you have an admirer. Tell me, Rider G'ladheon, have you perchance attended anything resembling a ball as of late?"

Karigan's eyes widened as she clutched the letter to her chest. "Yes, Captain, I confess that I . . . did attend a ball at the bequest of my aunts."

Laren raised an eyebrow, "And did you meet anyone special at this ball?"

The blood drained from Karigan's face as she opened her mouth, with no audible sound. Laren chuckled, "It is no crime to catch the eye of a man, even as a royal messenger, but what has surprised me is the amount of energy that this man as put into finding you."

Karigan began to shake her head before she managed to find the words to articulate, "It shall not be a problem, Captain, I had not planned to continue my acquaintance with him. It was just for one night, I have no desire to leave the Corps," she said a bit desperately.

Laren reached out and rescued the letter before it was crumpled in Karigan's fists. "I never thought you did, but the point is, this man guessed in some small part from your conversation that you were a Rider, and he still wishes to know you."

A feeling of relief coupled with befuddlement entered Karigan's mind, "You know him?"

Laren paused but slowly nodded, "Yes, I do know him. Rather well in fact."

Karigan supposed that would only make sense given her proximity to the King and his court. She ventured quietly, "He said he was kin to the Hillander clan, but I never knew his name, and I never gave mine. I swear to you, Captain, it was not my intent to dally with the man."

The Captain's eyes shown with a small amount of sympathy, "I never suspected you of such a thing. It is unfortunate that you parted under such circumstances, but he reached out to me to rectify that, however he wishes to speak easily with you before he reveals his name. He is somewhat shy." she said dryly, while tapping a finger on the letter.

"Hardly fair when he knows of me. What could he possibly want with a lowborn Rider?" Karigan asked uneasily, taking a step back.

Laren closed the distance between them and looked the Rider straight in the eye, "If I tell you that I know him to be an honorable man, will you accept my word, then take and read the letter to find out for yourself?"

Karigan bit her lip and looked at the letter with clear longing but it took several minutes before her ink stained fingers reached out to once again take the heavy parchment. Laren nodded in clear satisfaction, "Well then. I would say that you are dismissed for the day, you can go over the accounts tomorrow morning one final time and bring me a reply for the letter, yes?"

The young woman nodded her assent and thus she was left in the privacy of the small office. The parchment was heavy and embossed, a sign of the wealth that had purchased it. Warily, Karigan broke the plain red wax seal and slowly unfolded the sheets.

 _Dear Lady,_

 _I know not why you needed to depart, but please believe me when I say I hope it was not a result of any offense given. Thinking of the night I spent in your company has given me much pleasure, and offered me a reprieve I have not experienced in a good long while. I do ask that you forgive me for the means in which this letter is delivered, for I have asked Captain Mapstone to identify the Lady that has been ever present on my thoughts._

 _I am afraid I gave her a promise that I now regret, in which I would swear to keep my distance from you until we were properly acquainted. In truth, Lady, I believe she is rather fond of you and more than a little protective of her charge. As Captain Mapstone has been a faithful friend of the Hillander clan for many years, I can tell you that it is gratifying to know that she speaks well of you._

 _I would dearly wish to finish our conversation, if you are indeed willing, please send your response by way of your Captain. She will see it home to its recipient._

Karigan could see no signature but that of a small seal in the form of a Hillander Terrier. With a smile, she traced the red ink, admiring the tiny details depicted in the dog's form.

She folded the letter back up, tucking it safely into her vest, before grinning and tugging her coat off the back of her chair. Her destination was decided as she ambled out the door with an excited grin.

* * *

A dozen sour-faced nobles looked at him with a mixture of panic and rage.

Only a few were capable at the moment of articulating their thoughts into decipherable words. Castellan Sperran was still making slight wheezing noises as he fought to cough up the wine that had entered the wrong path when Zachary had made his announcement.

Lord Coutre was among the first to speak, solemnly standing, "Sire, are you well aware of what you are asking?"

Zachary chose his words with great care, "Indeed, my lords, I am asking that this council honor the agreement in which _they_ endorsed."

Lord Mirwell sputtered, "You had your pick from any of the major houses, Gods even the minor landed gentry would have been preferrable to _this_."

Zachary tilted his head at the small man, rather like a hawk eyeing a mouse, "The potential bride I have in mind comes from a wealthy merchant family of Corsa, and the family holds no political aspirations. I fail to see what could be better than finding a bride with such political neutrality," he said evenly, drawing a few irate glares from the others.

Castellan Sperran wiped at his mouth hurriedly with the edge of his tunic, "Sire, you have not yet disclosed the name of the woman in question or her relations."

The King steepled his fingers together, "I am afraid I cannot release her name to you yet, not until I further my courtship with the lady and obtain her family's position."

Lord Coutre sat back down and shook his head, "How can you assume to continue with when the council has not given its approval?"

The fire in Zachary's eyes flamed for a moment before he stood and rested his weight on one leg, "I ask you to think, my lords, who from amongst your daughters shall I marry? Who shall be linked to the royal house?"

Several lords looked amongst each other uneasily as they remembered their unwed females. Zachary continued, "Shall I take Lord Mirwell's niece? A girl not even on the cusp of womanhood? Or the Lady Estora's younger sister? A child of eight?"

Lord Mirwell had the grace to flush red but he shot back, "Your Majesty, many marriages have been brokered before the bride has been of age."

Zachary pursed his lips, the force of his intense stare bearing down on the dingy little man, "The fact remains, my lord, as you yourself have often reminded me, that I have little time to secure my heir and so a decision must be made soon. I agreed, against my better judgment, to attend this bride-finding ball. I allow the attendance of every blue blooded female in the country and more than a few eligible other ladies, I dance, I engage in mindless chatter . . . in short, I fulfill my end of the bargain."

"True enough, sire," Castellan Sperran muttered, rubbing a hand over his features.

The King continued icily, "I find a worthy Lady of my choosing, and the council decides that her pedigree may be lacking in their eyes, so they withhold their support?"

Lord Coutre held out a placating hand, "Majesty, while we did agree to such an arrangement prior, I believe I speak for many when I say we know nothing of the woman you have chosen and her capabilities as a future Queen."

Zachary replied, unclenching his jaw, "Nor do I, but what I ask, my lords, is that I be given the opportunity to find out, and possibly have your backing if the time comes."

While the tension in the room was not as great as it had been, there was still ripples of unease and an edge of discontent. Lord Coutre turned to confer with the others, their backs slightly to their King. As the eldest and most level headed Lord-Governor, many often looked to him for his good sense and wisdom while keeping a wary eye out for his subtle manipulations. It was well know that he held a sort of sway over the council, but fortunately for the King, he had mostly fallen on the side of his liege in times of dispute.

A short time later, in which Zachary had left the room and returned, Lord Coutre had offered a respectful bow, "Sire, it is our opinion that your courtship be endorsed, but the subject of any marriage should be postponed until which time you are ready to offer for her."

Zachary subtly shifted in his seat, inclining his head a fraction to signal his understanding but it was his eyes that truly demonstrated his gratitude to the Lord-Governor of Coutre.

The lord was now a happy grandfather of a boy that had been named his sole heir. His daughter's marriage was initially not what he had hoped for, but the product of their union had produced a dear little boy that usurped the next heir apparent, a young rake and cousin of the Hillanders by the name of Amberhill. So relieved was Lord Coutre, that he had fully embraced his son in law, and sent the other young wastrel back to his estate.

The other lords would bend easily to his judgment, and those who dissented as Lord Mirwell had publicly done would hold their tongues in fear of later reprisal. Besides, it was a wise lord who looked ahead to the future and saw the many royal children of a happy couple with other unions in mind.

Castellan Sperran, surprisingly, did not look altogether put out at the idea of a merchant's daughter becoming the next Queen, but his practically bent mind thought more of the advantages of a rich commoner's daughter to that of a potentially impoverished Lady.

Zachary rose and the council was adjourned for another fortnight.

Willis led the way back to the royal apartments as Fastion followed a few steps behind his King. Zachary keenly felt the success of the council's final verdict and allowed himself a large grin. Nothing was impossible, as his Grandmother Isen used to say, but the path to success was often fraught with bureaucrats.

* * *

Some have said they liked a bit of the political intrigue, so I hope this slakes your interest. Cheers and I hope to hear from you, all your words are very encouraging!


	7. Chapter 7

This was hard, I threw out a bunch of it because I was dragging it out and it didn't look like Cinderella anymore. So forgive the rushed courtship. As someone already joked, we do not want an episode of Runaway Bride, so I sort of did " Love After Careful Consideration" instead of "Love at First Sight". This was a very hard lesson in following plot parameters! Thanks for all the lovely reviews.

* * *

Karigan opened the door to her room, throwing her coat haphazardly onto the bed. From her trunk, she pulled out a beautiful oak lap desk that her father had gifted her when she had received her education in Selium.

She rolled her coat into a ball, stuffing it under her two pillows to afford a comfortable back rest as she settled in, parchment ready and quill in hand.

All the possible words that had flown through her mind did not seem so very clever or eloquent anymore. Truly, she did not know how to proceed with speaking with a man who professed to have an interest in her. Her earlier disgruntlement that he had some notion of her identity no longer bothered her, for she did go as far as to admit her occupation in roundabout terms.

What concerned her most was the very wide discrepancy between a merchant and that of a noble. What could she say to such a man that would not readily reveal her unusual nature? Karigan was not so conceited that she imagined herself the epitome of a Lady, nor did she have any special skills apart from her Rider brooch. Her friend Estral could at least boast of her musicality, like some of the other students in Selium who could boast of being artists or writers.

No, Karigan G'ladheon was herself, and on most days that suited her just fine. But a self critical look in the mirror revealed a certain carelessness in her appearance that could be attributed to her role as a Rider, but if she were honest with herself, she never cared much for fripperies. How to style hair in curls, what colors suited one's complexion best; these were things she left to her aunts.

She scrunched her nose up at her reflection and stuck her tongue out. There were a smattering of freckles across her high cheekbones that were not there before. Aunt Stace would be mortified before sending her to bed with lemon juice to apply to the unsightly spots.

Karigan leaned back against her pillow and frowned heavily. Appearance and personality aside, there was the question of how her father would react if it were known that she had spent her time at the ball with a nobleman, and that he had sought her out.

Staring at the blank parchment proved especially fruitless after ten minutes worth of ruminating. With some hesitation, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and carefully formed the first words of her correspondence to the man who had occupied her thoughts, and had so quickly found his way into her heart.

A smile born of true happiness blossomed across her features as she wrote her response.

* * *

Zachary had tapped his fingers impatiently against the wooden arm of his throne as he waited for the last of the courtiers to formally greet him on their return to Sacor City.

Normally, in lieu of the masquerade ball, a similar event opened the beginning of summer in the capital and the arrival of several noble families who took pains to introduce themselves, and their marriageable children, to others in court.

Many had returned home to their respective provinces immediately after the ball, before traveling slowly by caravan train to their summer residences in the city.

For this reason, it really was his least favorite time of the year. Socializing around large groups of people had been his brother's forte, never his. Still, he did his duty by each large audience and every single celebration that was held in the castle. All the while, secretly waiting for the chilly autumn winds that would chase the gossips and busybodies back to their own estates.

Mournfully, he thought of the stack of books that had yet to receive his attentions, and of the nearby plains where he had not taken his stallion for a good hard run in many a moon turn.

Almost guiltily, but not entirely so, he stood and briskly strode out of the room as the crowd began to disperse. Fastion matched his steps evenly and showed no signs of fatigue as his liege nearly ran up several flights of stairs.

Zachary reached his apartments, nodding at the Weapons posted on either side of the door and entering with a sigh of relief. His balcony and windows were open, allowing a fresh breeze carry out the heat of one of their first humid days. With a grumble, he tore off his doublet and draped it over the door of his wardrobe.

Fastion said nothing as he closed the door behind him and waited for the valet to gather discarded clothing. Once alone, he inquired softly, "You are anxious, sire?"

Zachary had been sitting in a chair, by the open balcony with his head back and the neck of his shirt open to cool his skin. He tilted his head up to regard his Weapon with a slightly sour look on his face. For a man who was normally so good natured and reserved, it was quite the show of emotion from the Hillander King. "It has been days, Fastion, days. She probably is aghast that had the fool who had followed her about at a ball had the nerve to seek her out."

Fastion's stony countenance showed a tic in his cheek but he said nothing.

In response, Zachary's amber eyes narrowed into slits, "You are laughing at me," he declared.

The Weapon visibly clenched his jaw but there was still the hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

The King stood and looked at him in slight disbelief, "You think this is amusing?"

Fastion shook his head, "No sire, only that you forget that she has other duties as well and perhaps finding the words for a response was harder than you supposed."

Zachary made a noise of disgust, "That hardly sounds good either, if she had to think of something to say."

Fastion offered his version of a genuine smile, which merely was a twist of his lips. The Weapon slowly reached into his leather doublet and withdrew a small ivory square of paper. It was not ostentatious and rather plainly folded, but it was held out with solemn formality. "I was waiting for Your Majesty to finish his schedule for the day before I ensured his correspondence was delivered."

The King's mouth dropped open a fraction in indignation before he walked a few steps forward to swipe it out of Fastion's hand, "You believe you are hilarious, don't you?"

"Life is filled with small joys such as this," Fastion intoned seriously.

Zachary turned over the square in his hands, "Probably a note, telling me off for being a pretentious ass."

The Weapon inclined his head, "Aye, that it may be sire. Or she may not be adverse to your attentions."

The King gave him a dubious look before taking a deep breath as he quickly tore the letter open and scanned the first few lines.

Although he would not admit it, Fastion watched his King's face with some apprehension. He knew that much hinged upon the outcome of this, and so it was with some relief that he observed the lines across Zachary's face smooth as he smiled softly. He looked up at Fastion and nodded slowly, and held out the letter for his inspection.

The Weapon balked and looked down at the piece of paper as if it would bite him. The King snorted with amusement and offered it again, "There is nothing improper inside of it, but I would have you read it."

Fastion sniffed and took it gingerly, straightening his arms as he held it out in front of him. The letter was written in tight lines with a firm and no-nonsense script.

After a few minutes, he lowered the parchment and arched an eyebrow, "Short, bold, and to the point"

Zachary grinned, "She signed it _your_ Rider."

"So she did," Fastion replied mildly, folding the note and handing it back.

"I think we have somewhere to be, Fastion," the King said as he grabbed a loose jacket, "My lady has made a request of me."

The Weapon looked about the room, "Her shoe?"

Zachary hurried to a trunk at the base of his four poster bed and dug around carefully amongst the linens, bringing forth a bundle of silk and unwrapping its folds to reveal the delicate slipper. "Will you have Willis alert the appropriate parties Fastion? Have them meet in the throne room, I will be there presently."

Fastion bowed and ducked his head out the door to relay his King's instructions while Zachary ran a hand over his growing hair with a slight grimace and checked the new growth of hair at his jawline. He was going to run downstairs completely unkempt, but something told him the woman he knew truly would not mind.

Outside, Willis stood by in absolute confusion, "Now? She's supposed to be in the training ring with Dren- Ow!"

" _Go_ downstairs and arrange for an additional detail to accompany the King to the barracks, ensure that all Riders in the city are recalled, and send a Green Foot to obtain Castellan Sperran," Fastion said loudly.

Willis scowled and rubbed at the back of his head, disappearing down the nearest flight of stairs. The two Weapons posted at the door exchanged a look with each other, then glanced at Fastion in curiosity.

Fastion straightened his doublet and turned to walk back into the apartment after giving his brothers a wink.

* * *

Karigan finished cleaning up from her training bout and now lay atop her bed in a tunic, trousers and soft deerskin boots. It was likely a mistake to put on her comfortable clothes, after eating and bathing. Warm, fed, and done for the day she mused happily, burying her head in her pillow.

A loud banging on her door rudely interrupted the stirrings of a dream with chandeliers and honey cakes. She swung her legs off the bed and blearily looked upon Mara's excited visage. "You will not believe what I heard. Do you think you can guess?"

Karigan brushed still damp hair out of her face and muttered, "Likely not. You'll just have to tell me, then leave me to my nap."

Mara pushed past her and moved to grab Karigan's brush from her stand, "The Corps has been summoned by the King."

Karigan was far to gone to protest being manhandled, so she allowed Mara to quickly brush her hair as she replied warily, "Why? Something wrong?"

Mara shrugged, "They didn't say why, just to start coming to the common room. Karigan, I think the King means to come to the Rider barracks!"

Karigan scoffed, "He has no reason to, when we could easily be _summoned_ upstairs."

Her friend tugged Karigan out of her room and the door behind her, "It is whispered that he found his bride in Corsa, but no one has seen her. Are you not from L'Petrie? Could you possibly know her?"

Karigan yawned, "Yes I grew up in Corsa, but you know that I did not mingle with those sorts of people. More likely would find me playing in a barnyard, rather than learning my embroidery."

They arrived at the edge of the common room which was abuzz with nearly fifty Riders of all ages and genders. Rich and lowborn, they all chattered together and speculated over the various reasons in which they might have been called. Captain Mapstone stood at the front near the large fireplace talking with an older distinguished gentleman, with an impressive scowl on her face. With a sharp whistle, she called the room's attention to her, and cleared her throat, "Some of you may wonder why you are here. One week ago, the King attended a masquerade ball with the sole purpose of choosing his future Queen. He found a lady of his choosing but her identity has remained hidden from him. The King asks your help in locating her."

The group murmured and looked about the room with puzzled countenances. Karigan's brow creased in slight apprehension but she kept her gaze on Captain Mapstone.

Laren held up a hand to gesture for silence, "With me now, is Castellan Sperran, who will explain the nature of the King's request."

The frazzled looking man stepped up and looked many of them directly in the eye, "The King has expressed his faith that this woman is imminently suitable for the role of his Queen, and has gone so far as to procure the permission of the council to secure her hand. However, due to the varied guests at the ball, we have no means of locating her other than interviewing each young woman. Starting in this very castle."

Karigan shivered as she wrapped her arms about her waist. She had know the King was in attendance that night, but she had been so absorbed that she had not even thought of the other guests. How could he have lost his future Queen?

"For the Corps, Captain Mapstone's office will be utilized for the interviews. She will escort each of you at the appropriate time."

Karigan hung near the back with Mara and watched as each girl went and disappeared around the corridor to the office. And each came back with a pink face, with no ready answers for their friends who pestered. There were twenty three of them total, and most were only in the room for a few minutes at a time.

It came to be Mara's turn and she squeezed Karigan's hand before confidently following Captain Mapstone.

Karigan sat down carefully in an armchair and absentmindedly weaved her now dry hair into a loose plait, securing the end with a piece of cord from her pocket. She was the last to be interviewed, and most of the Riders had disappeared, many assuming that the future Queen would never likely be found in the lower reaches of the castle.

Mara returned to her side after a short while, calling out her name softly, "Karigan?"

She looked up into Mara's soft features with a hint of alarm, "Is it that time already?"

Her friend smiled and nodded, "They are expecting you."

Captain Mapstone gestured impatiently for Karigan to stand and follow her, but a feeling of unease still lingered with Karigan. Cautiously, she ventured, "Captain, is this truly necessary when I know I was not with the King that night?"

Laren dismissed the notion with a roll of her eyes and a deep sigh that spoke of aggravation, "I am not entirely happy with this arrangement myself, but they only now insisted that everyone be screened."

Karigan smoothed her tunic that almost felt to her knees in soft folds and gave Laren one last pleading glance, "Must I?"

Laren opened the door into the softly lit room, blocking her view of those inside, "Yes, Rider, you must. Be honest and be yourself, and remember that you are supported by your Corps if you should feel uneasy."

Karigan offered a small smile and took a deep breath before Laren ushered her inside.

* * *

There are so many discarded paragraphs where I ventured into other plotlines, but in order for the slipper thing to work, it has to be subtle. If anyone revealed their method of finding the Queen, you know Karigan would try to bolt. Fastion has no time for insecurities from either party, so this scheme was hatched instead.


	8. Chapter 8

Last chapter unless there is an epilogue I feel like doing. This was re-written a few times, same problem as before. Making GR characters adhere believably to a Cinderella plot. Thanks for the reviews all! It was a fun writing exercise. I hope it is enough of a fluffy filler to soothe Mirror Sight hurts.

* * *

Karigan kept her head down respectfully as she entered the Captain's office with no small amount of trepidation. Looking out of the corner of her eye, there seemed to only a few others in the room, but the sparse light from the window and the lone lamp did not give her much of an indication of who.

Laren gently pushed her forward with a hand on her back and Karigan took a few measured steps towards the large desk, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

A male voice gently inquired in a low tone, "Can I have your name?"

Karigan looked sideways at Laren, who gave her an encouraging expression. She replied evenly, "Karigan G'ladheon, of Corsa."

"Karigan . . . " the voice murmured quietly, his baritone touching some recess of her mind and triggering a cacaphony of memory, "Do you think you might help me find that which I have lost, Lady Karigan?"

Almost a bit alarmed, she looked up into the amber eyes of the man sitting across from her. Confusion marred her brow as she searched the planes of his face, "Your Majesty . . .?"

He smiled almost tenderly, "Zachary Hillander, it is a pleasure to finally be introduced."

Karigan regarded him with a wide and open gaze, her mouth slightly agape as she took in his appearance and the two men standing behind him. Quickly she flushed and ducked her head, murmuring, "I would not think to address the King so informally, sire."

The King stood and moved about the desk slowly, noting the tense posture in the lines of her body, and turned to the others in the room, "If you would leave us for a few moments . . .?"

Laren and Castellan Sperran visibly balked. The older man spoke hesitantly, "Sire, how can you be sure it is her?"

Zachary studied the tremble of Karigan's hands, and the slightly proud tilt of her jaw, that she had hastily tried to hide by keeping her gaze down. "I am sure I would know this lady without her mask and fine gown, Castellan. It shall only be a short while," he assured them both, casting Laren a meaningful glance.

The Captain grimaced and moved outside, Castellan Sperran a few short steps behind.

Then, save the dark figure standing silently in the corner, they were alone.

Zachary continued to study her intently, "You are angry," he stated simply.

Karigan clenched her jaw, "Sire, I am in no position to be angry. After all, it was I asked you to meet in my letter. And I who insisted that we did not exchange names at the ball."

He leaned against the edge of the table, "I think that if you were to look me in the eye at this moment, you might be caught telling a fib. Tell me your thoughts, Karigan," he pressed her.

She balled her hands into fists at her side, but conceded to the request, "Sire, I think if not for that fine mask and gown, you would not have noticed me otherwise. Now that you see what I am, perhaps you can see that you have made a mistake."

He tilted his head to the side and said nothing, but returned to the desk chair and reached down to pick up a small object in his hands. As he came closer to her, she could see the rich sheen of satin and she gave a small gasp.

It was her mother's slipper he held.

Zachary regarded her with a tiny smile, "To be fair, Lady, we had not even seen each other before the ball. I like to think that if we had, I _would_ have noticed you," he said murmured fiercely.

"I am not a Lady," she said automatically, taking a step back and looking back down at the floor.

He paused, "Indeed not? I believe my grandmother told me all women were ladies," he said lightly.

Karigan looked up then, into the same eyes that had teased her and cajoled her into good humor when she had felt out of her element amongst the courtiers in their splendid dress. There was nothing but stark honesty there now, and a hint of vulnerability as he reached out to tentatively grasp her hand.

To be sure, she should have shied away. Instinct told her that Kings do not touch lowborn girls with such gentleness, but the pleading look he gave her stopped whatever protest she had been about to make. He guided her to a chair, and gestured her to sit, "Despite _what_ I am, it is only a small part of _who_ I am. I am the same man you met on that terrace, and you are the same woman who persuaded me to raid a kitchen."

Karigan looked up and sighed, her expression infinitely saddened, "Our titles are what others will think of at the end of the day, sire."

"Zachary," he corrected, "And what if I told you that there was no reason to fear the reactions of others?" he asked as he took a knee next to her chair.

Karigan squirmed and tried not react to his closeness, "If you were not the King, I might question your honesty. Besides, why would their reactions be of concern to me?" she queried suspiciously.

Zachary chuckled and sat back on his heels, "I am implying that any possible naysayers have had their concerns addressed, what do you think it is that I am suggesting, exactly?"

She narrowed her eyes, "You speak as if you intend to let others know exactly who I am."

He nodded slowly, "I would like to, however, that depends on your wishes as well."

Karigan lifted both eyebrows, "I have a choice in this?"

Zachary gave the hint of a frown as he deftly untied the laces of her soft boot and tugged it off, despite her feeble protests. "You always have a choice, I wish to make that clear. But I spoke true in my letter, Lady, you have captured my attention and I daresay you will never lose it."

She blushed and whispered faintly, cursing herself for her lack of resistance, "You do not even know me."

He carefully placed the slipper upon her foot, his touch lingering around her ankle, and looked up to her uncertain gaze, "I know enough to be absolutely certain that I am utterly lost. Can I ever hope for you to feel the same?"

Karigan felt a tightness and pressure in her chest as her heart beat faster, and tears threatened the corners of her eyes, she was not able to bring herself to speak but she managed a dry chuckle, bringing a hand to her mouth as a small giggle escaped. _Reduced to giggling_ , she thought forlornly, _I must completely lost to this feeling as well_.

Zachary reached to take her hand from her face, and grinned as he felt the newly acquired callouses from the training ring. "I need to hear your answer if I am to ask you another question."

Karigan keenly felt the weight of the expectations of others; of her family, her Corps, and her country almost suffocating her as reason told her to firmly dissuade the King of any notions that might imply she was amenable to his attentions. But the warm hand caressing hers did not feel wrong, or improper. It felt as if it belonged there, as did the warmth and unnamed feeling that she felt towards her King. Her silence and countenance must have shown her true thoughts, for he leaned closer and placed a lingering kiss on the back of her hand.

She breathed shallowly as she watched his fingers interlace with hers, hearing the soft query echo in the small room, "Would you consent to marry me? Be my Queen and help-mate"

The monster of self-conscious thought reared its head and the blood drained out of her face rapidly, "Oh Gods, I would be no good for you," she babbled quickly, trying to tug her hand away.

Zachary held fast to her wrist, laughing and shaking his head, "No, Lady, that is exactly why you are perfect for me. I need someone to challenge me, call me out when I am being stubborn, and to never be afraid to be honest. And you are forgetting my flaws," he added seriously, "I am prone to periods of moodiness, I am a horrible slob, and I like play with my dogs more than I like to talk to people."

Karigan murmured without thinking, "I probably would too."

He offered a happy smile, "There, you see? Entirely compatible."

She gave a noise of disquiet and groaned, "My place is in the Corps, as a Rider, not as the wife of a King."

Zachary tilted his head, "I could not secure my own happiness while attacking yours. As long as you hear the call, then my Rider Queen you shall be."

Her sheer happiness erupted onto her features and without thinking, she launched herself forward to wrap her arms about his neck in a tight hug. His arms quickly came around her, catching them both before they toppled to the floor, and he returned the embrace tightly, while murmuring into her neck, "Is this a 'Yes'?"

Karigan did not bother holding back a few tears that trickled down her face. Tears, in her aunts' opinion, were a waste of energy and therefore were of no use to a G'ladheon woman. They did not account for the happy moments in life when the sheer volume of emotion could override the senses. She nodded jerkily and held onto his shoulders as he pulled back to look into her shining eyes.

A gruff clearing of the throat reminded them of the figure in the corner, who had up to that point, been completely silent during the intimate conversation. The solemn countenance of the Weapon who strode forth was offset by the strange little twinkle in his eyes. Carefully, he bowed at the waist, "Sire, I think I am assured of your safety at this point. I will adjurn for a few moments to ask Willis to inform Donal. My Lady," he acknowledged Karigan with a crisp bow of his head.

They both blinked at him, their arms still around each other, with Karigan practically sprawled across Zachary's lap, as the Weapon quickly ducked out the door without letting those outside see them in their current state. Karigan's face flamed red, "Is he always going to be around, hiding in the shadows like that?"

Zachary wrinkled his nose, "Mostly, yes. But there will be times when we will be alone. And I would advise, My Lady," he teased, "That we take advantage of them as they come along," he finished, reaching up to tug her hair out of its loose braid. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, then down the bridge of her nose, pausing for just one moment as they exchanged a nervous smile. "You still have time to re-consider," he quipped as their foreheads touched.

Karigan breathed back, "I think you made a reasonably convincing argument, sire"

He slipped a hand to the back of her neck, and grinned wickedly, meeting her mouth with his.

* * *

The ending is entirely open and subject to interpretation except for the lewdest kind. If you wish it, I will allow for heavy necking. The sort teenagers do. KxZ are not going to anticipate their wedding vows on the floor of Laren's office. Fastion is about to come back and he doesn't not want that sort of thing scarred upon his retina. What is seen cannot be unseen.

Hope you all enjoyed that, thanks for reading along. Thinking of possible epilogue future scenes but will probably wait a few days. Give the other fics some love.


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